


Reset

by chadolbaekie



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), SEVENTEEN - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8277440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadolbaekie/pseuds/chadolbaekie
Summary: Kim Mingyu, a popular journalist and media reporter, falls in love with the kind, soft-spoken romance author, Jeon Wonwoo after an interview and series of coincidences that entwine their relationship. But one day, Wonwoo gets into a horrible accident and wakes up a different person. Mingyu must choose what to do with his boyfriend's new personality and how they will keep their relationship alive.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a fanfic and publishing it! I'm kind of excited/kind of nervous as to how this will turn out but aslkdfjakj I hope you guys like it! (also sorry for any spelling errors, sometimes i proofread too fast and don't realize there's a mistake ;;)

"How old is this guy again?"

"Twenty-one. A year older than you are."

Mingyu held still as Seungkwan applied a special shimmery balm on his lips, Mingyu furrowing his brows.

"I interview hot young teens, he's too old for my audience."

"Trust me, he's someone your audience is highly anticipating."

"What makes you say that?"

Jun laughed in his seat to Mingyu's far right on the sofa, the noise like the chime of Christmas bells. "He wrote, like, the biggest teen heartthrob novel in Korea. I heard Hollywood, Taiwanese, and Parisian productions are ready to pounce on this guy for the rights to turn it into a film. How did you not hear about this?"

"Because I don't read unless it's got my name as the author," Mingyu scoffed as he extended his arm to grab for the hairspray.

Seungkwan slapped his hand and held his wrist. "Your hair is fine, stop it."

He pouted and rolled his eyes, slouching his back in chair as he studied his facial features in the mirror. He was a handsome guy, tall, well-bodied. He came in second as one of Korea's "Top 10 Most Eligible Desirable Bachelors," finding the nomination unsurprising and sort of disappointing. Number one was some idol from a small company and group, Mingyu interviewing the guy once when he debuted for a special column project his former magazine editor forcibly assigned him.

"When you say heartthrob, you mean…?"

"I mean the last time he ever wrote something was so good he felt pressured, had anxiety and depression, attempted suicide, went into hiding, and it's the first time he's showing his face to the cameras since he was seventeen years old."

Mingyu glanced upward as he tried to compute the author's age.

"That's four years, Mingyu, he hasn't written anything in four years. Twenty-one minus seventeen is four."

Mingyu crossed his arms. "I went to school for journalism, not math."

"You went to school for culinary, and culinary includes math when measuring," Jun corrected.

"So this guy's a basket case?"

"Hey!" Seungkwan shouted. "My cousin has depression, don't call him that."

"Okay, rephrase: so this guy's got… issues?"

"He's really a brilliant writer, his stuff kinda settles into your skin and makes you feel like he's talking to you through his books instead of trying to write a marveling piece," Jun commented.

"If it gets me paid and gets me laid, I'll interview the guy."

The door opened, Myungho appearing with his headset on. "He arrived."

"Let them know we need twenty more minutes, Mingyu hasn't picked out his clothes yet," Seungkwan said calmly, combing little tufts of Mingyu's caramel brown bangs.

"Every time you're late, why can't you be prepared on time?" Myungho asked angrily, shutting the door.

Mingyu found his anger amusing, grabbing some popcorn Jun had heated up and popping a couple in his mouth. "Who was that?"

"Our secretary. Or, our _new_ secretary, that is, considering that Hansol was fired."

Mingyu rolled his brows once, shrugging his shoulders as he spun around in his swivel chair to watch Seungkwan search for clothes he could wear. He was never fond of the employees of his building; the only ones he really trusted and cared for (although he pretended not to) were Seungkwan his hair/fashion consultant, and Jun, his media manager. All other staff were either temporary, too drab, or unimportant for Mingyu.

 

 

• • •

 

 

"Right this way, Mr. Jeon. Anything to drink?"

Wonwoo followed the small man named Myungho, unsure if his ears were broken or if this man was speaking with a foreign accent. "No, thank you."

"Food?"

"No."

"We're really glad you decided to come out and talk about your book. _Heeeeeeuge_ fan, by the way, I read the first three and have been waiting for ages!"

Wonwoo let out a fake chuckle, feeling awkward with this man. "'Preciate it, thanks."

"My niece loves your work, too, would it be wrong to ask for a signature later? You know, after the interview with Mingyu?"

"No problem," he said simply.

They found themselves in a small, brightly lit room, Wonwoo crinkling his eyes at the gigantic ceiling bulb hanging. It looked like an interrogation room like in the criminal movies: four blank whitish gray walls greeted him, and a rectangular mahogany table with two seats on either length side inhabiting the center. He wouldn't expect such a boring-looking room from a man like Mingyu; he knew almost everything about the younger when he was informed by his manager he'd have an interview by one of the most popular journalists in the country. He Youtube searched his big interviews, his Wikipedia page, his biography. Mingyu had a fortunately clean slate and an impressive social media history. No dating history, no scandal, just an amiable hot guy who was in with every trend within Seoul. He was everything Wonwoo wasn't: a people-person, extroverted, handsome. This simple ugly room must have been a general, neutral, non-personal interview room, there was no way it could've been Mingyu's, the guy had more flair to him, more substance from all Wonwoo had gathered.

"If you'll have a seat, Mingyu will be out soon."

Wonwoo nodded at the foreign (he decided) employee who took his leave shortly. As soon as the door shut, he felt the anxiety creeping into his soul. He had taken his medication this morning, his roommate and best friend preparing them out on the table before he left, along with a small pleasant egg, bacon, and cheese melt and a bowl of assorted fruit. It had filled Wonwoo's tummy up so much that he was almost excited for this interview; but now, sitting here, the idea settled in and scared him all over again. He was reading the comments the night before, the comments that his therapist, roommate, and family had encouraged he avoid. There were headlines he scrolled past after dinner, headlines reading _Jeon Wonwoo: The Author Who Lived, Famous 'Red' writer resurfaces through new novel 'Persephone',_ or (his personal favorite), _Walking Past the Doors of Anxiety._

The one thing he hated more than loud, aggressive dogs was criticism when it was non-constructive, gossipy, and spiteful. Those were the things that fed the devil inside his mind- no, his _soul_ , consuming all the dark things and making Wonwoo hate himself for his own writing.

There was a knock at the door, Wonwoo glancing to his left. He removed his hands from his pockets and straightened his back, his heart racing. He had to remind himself to keep his chin raised and poised, just like his father taught him when he was only a boy. _Wonwoo, you need to approach the world with manners and etiquette_ , he had told him years and years ago.

He slouched back in his seat and let out a breath when a girl came in, his manager. Uee sighed when she saw him slouching, sitting on the opposite side of the table with her clipboard and enormous black purse, filled with everything Wonwoo needed.

"I didn't know you were going to be here," he said.

"Of course, Wonwoo, I'm here for everything you need to do." She didn't mean it significantly, but more formally, in business-manner. "Did Soonyoung prepare your meds this morning?"

"Like he does every morning, yes."

"Did you tell him to feed the dogs?" she asked, pulling a black shiny folder out and opening it on the table before him. He saw documents, documents from his publishing company, filed in so perfectly organized and crisp. He liked that about Uee, she was balanced and orderly, able to handle whatever was thrown in her direction. Like him.

"Are you two fighting again? He didn't say anything about the dogs before leaving after he prepared my meds, I didn't even see him this morning. He left before I woke up."

She stopped what she was doing (which was scribbling something on a notepad) and looked at him. "Did he leave a note? Where did he go?"

"I don't know," Wonwoo said quietly, watching her eyes flit back down to the notepad.

"Mingyu is going to ask surface-only questions. I made sure with his manager that he doesn't fuck you up and go deep and ask about the anxiety."

"Thank you. But-"

"But it's Jun. _Jun_. He likes to lie, that shit. I don't know if I can trust him this time, we made a big deal like this once with another of his clients, and it all backfired. There was cursing, people throwing fists and people throwing things. A very nasty, high-priced hospital bill involved, too."

"I was going to say, I think-"

"Wonwoo, everything will be under control," she interrupted, holding one of his wrists, both of which were now on the table, and looking him in the eye concernedly. "If you feel uncomfortable, give me a sign, please. Like, a wink or make some kind of noise or call for a break."

"Uee!" he said a little loudly, Wonwoo incapable of actually yelling at another human being.

This was enough to shake her out of her jumbled, micromanaging thoughts. "What is it?"

"I looked him up, Mingyu, and he seems very off-script with how he conducts his interviews. Or, how he conducts himself _naturally_ for that matter."

"Huh. Wouldn’t be surprised, 'f you ask me," she mumbled, jotting something down into her notepad again. "I'll kill Mingyu, and after Mingyu, I'll kill Jun. And then I'll take down the head of this compan-"

"Ah, Uee, Uee, Uee," a new voice boomed, the door opening with Mingyu sauntering in, Jun following behind. "You're going to kill me? After all our late nights working on the-"

Uee ripped the sheet out from her pad before he could finish his statement, crumpling it into a pointy, ugly ball. "Don't you start, Kim Mingyu."

Wonwoo wasn't sure what was happening; he found their dialogue quite interesting, though, planting and fermenting the seed of thought for a new plot this small conversation could inspire, when he remembered he was here for his current novel.

Mingyu held his beautiful hand out to Wonwoo, the author struggling to get on his feet. When they shook hands, Wonwoo forced himself to look into the tall boy's eyes, his heart rate increasing by the second. "Kim Mingyu, columnist-slash-journalist, enthusiast about anything, really," he introduced. "Loved your book. I feel the plot really submerges into your skin, burrows into the heart and soul, and makes a home of itself in the reader," he dramatized, Jun wanting to smack Mingyu over the back of his head for plagiarism.

Wonwoo was touched by these words, smiling brightly and happily. "You read it?"

"Every page," he lied, returning the smile. "Now, instead of this morose room, would you care to join me in my office? There's actual sunlight, instead of this… artificial makeshift," he invited, scrutinizing the unnecessarily large bulb.

"Sure!" Wonwoo said a little too happily, Uee feeling uneasy with the way her clients' eyes gleamed at Mingyu.

"Seokmin wants you to interview him here, though," Jun whispered softly to Mingyu as they exited the room, leading the way to Mingyu's office.

"What the hell for?" he muttered back.

"He said … you get distracted when you interview people in your office."

"Distracted? Me? _Distracted_? That's rich, coming from the man who can't keep his focus on his own wife," he shot back.

" _Mingyu_."

" _Jun_ ," Mingyu imitated. "I've got this, alright. No personal questions. He wrote a story that every heterosexual hopeless-romantic girl hopes and dreams of living with their future boyfriend and it's my job to satisfy these girls' expectations by unveiling the great man holding the pen. I'm a professional, I am aware of my limitations and restrictions."

"'Unveiling the great man' sounds… Mingyu, remember that interview with K-Slice?"

The corner of Mingyu's lips twitched at the name, concealing the smile he was ready to flash. "Of course I do."

"That interview is everything Seokmin doesn't want, alright. So don't."

"If you ask me, those sorts of interviews are indirect PR. I help them out, meanwhile they help me out. That's how business is. Not only do I get popular, but we get investments for DK Entertainment, and Seokmin CEO walks home a very rich man with a very fat wallet of money. And who's to thank at the end of the day for that super fat wallet?" He grinned at Jun after asking the rhetorical question, crossing his arms.

"I'm serious, Mingyu," Jun said dejectedly when they entered the elevator, Wonwoo and Uee following far behind, out of earshot.


End file.
